October Sky
by Genuine Terrestrial Show
Summary: McGee and Reid have some fun experimenting in Abby's lab, until Vance walks in. Gibbs and Hotch have a little talk with them. WARNING: Contains corporal punishment/discipline. Complete!
1. Or Not?

Title: October Sky

Rating: T

Warning(s): This story contains corporal punishment/discipline. If you don't like cp/d, then you're gonna look like a dumbass when you flame cuz you've been warned. Also contains shameless references to the characters as family members to each other.

A/N: I'm writing this while camping... thank whatever for laptops. I'm also typing it up on freaking wordpad cuz I hate Word2007. Of course, WP doesn't exactly come with spell check so I'll have to 'spell cheque' the old fashioned way. It's also unbeta'ed so let me know if you see any mistakes. BTW, please let me know if you understand the reference the title is making.

This story will become part of a larger arc. I will be writing a prequel to this, so stay tuned.

'October Sky'

Gibbs eased back in his chair, staring at the computer screen without really looking at it. After a long joint case with the BAU they had caught their killer -UnSub- he smiled as the correction came automatically in Reid's voice, even in his mind. He'd come to appreciate and respect the younger agent and his abilities, as he had with all the members of the BAU. But none would ever be as vital to him as his own team, his 'family'. Tim the young one, Tony and Ziva the eldest, Abby the baby, Jimmy the cousin and Ducky the uncle.

However, he knew his team had forged close bonds with their counterparts. Even he, so rare to get too close to another human being had become fairly good friends with Aaron and Dave. The parallels were almost easy to see; DiNozzo and Morgan, McGee and Reid, Abby and Garcia, Emily and JJ and Ziva, Ducky and Rossi, himself and Hotch. He supposed there were just quintessential roles that came with every team in this job. No one ever left high school it seemed. The jock, the nerd, the punk, the leader, the tech. He didn't complain; it meant that everyone had at least one person with which they could get along.

It hadn't been so at the beginning. Tony and Morgan being both Alpha male types clashed before they had to work out their problems in actual combat. Both had come away from it with a healthy respect for the other, and the beginnings of friendship. Gibbs was his usual snarky self, but gradually warmed up to the other men. They were both good leaders, and though he would never be able to have another equal helping him lead his team (though Tony sometimes came close) he could appreciate their style and it's effectiveness. Ziva and Emily actually already knew each other from Israel, so for them it was a matter of rekindling an old friendship. JJ fit easily in with them. Rossi and Ducky both loved to tell stories, and were content to wax on to each other. Reid and McGee instantly recognized the geek in one another and damn near sublimated from strangers to best friends. And Abby was eager to connect with Garcia once she realised she wasn't after McGee.

They also all got along well because both teams had their own unique family dynamic, but they were similar enough that they meshed well. Tony and Morgan gleefully tag teamed when teasing their 'younger brothers', and McGee and Reid retaliated in subtle ways (and some not so subtle). The "dads' were silently approving, and encouraging in that they were not actively unencouraging. Sometimes they would get out of line, as they would with other things and the three of them would bring them back in line with a few (a relative term) well placed smacks (not all at head level).

Tonight though, he wasn't expected trouble. The agents would all be unwinding, probably together since they had each other's company as an option. Whether individually or together, they would probably all head out for celebratory drinks at the bar. Gibbs was pretty much at the point where that was sounding like a good idea (just the drinking part though; he didn't especially like bars, prefering the comfort of his basement). Considering the other agents though, he might go out to the bar with them, or maybe invite them back to his house. Though they joked that the BAU members were princesses, he didn't really think either man would have a problem with drinking brandy out of dust filled jars.

He glanced over at Hotch, who was diligently working away on paperwork. He would never understand his vigilance; he himself saved his patience for grieving family and children. Not that Hotch didn't; he simply had more to use (or waste, in Gibbs' opinion) on the mundane. He shifted his gaze to Rossi, who leaning back in his chair, feet up looked bored enough to be willing to help him drag Hotch away from his paperwork.

He stood, switching his computer off (or wiping the hard drive; he never could get all that straight from McGee's frantic lectures). "You guys up for a drink?"

"Sure." Hotch sighed, pushing the paper work slightly forward and dropping the pen, rolling his wrist in the socket to stretch the aching tendons. He looked up to see two pairs of raised eyebrows. "I can occasionally be coerced away from paperwork without any effort."

"Only occasionally." Rossi noted with his warm smile. "Which bar were you thinking of?"

"Probably the one in his basement." They all turned to look at Vance, who was standing at the other end of the bullpen. He ignored Gibbs scowl and added "Sorry to put a halt to the festivities before they begin gentlemen, but you have a problem to attend to. Actually, just you two." He nodded to Hotch and Gibbs.

"Who and what?" Gibbs grimaced, wondering which 'offspring' he was bawling out now.

"You should go to Abby's lab. I think McGee and Reid are aspiring rocket boys..." he let his voice drift off, as their imaginations turned on.

Gibbs and Rossi barely had time to acknowledge that Hotch had left for the elevator to start following him before the doors closed, and he grumbled as they did slide shut "We _talked_ about those..."

~TBC


	2. Busted!

Title: Busted!

Word Count: 1044

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update guys... I did actually have this written when I posted the first, I just was too lazy to make some minor adjustments. Anyways, hope you enjoy the second installment of this story!

Chapter 2- Busted!

Between the two geniuses they had two degrees involving chemistry, one involving engineering and two curious minds; the stage was set for a fun night of rocket launching. McGee had coaxed a tech into giving him several dozen empty film canisters. The chemicals they needed were all there in Abby's lab. McGee also had a laptop to take notes, insisting on being entirely scientific about the whole experience. Reid readily agreed, admitting that he would get them to perform better if he knew which variables positively and negatively affected flight.

They set up shop in the lab itself (McGee counting on Abby's loving nature and passion for science to not get them in her bad graces; he never actually asked permission), with the launching 'pad' in Abby's office. The rockets were then aimed at the far doors leading to the hallway. They had opened the doors in the middle and blocked the one at the end. They weren't terribly worried about someone coming in at this time of night. Abby and Garcia had already left, and few people ventured here after hours, wary of finding something that would be irrevocably burned into their minds.

It started off fine. Reid used low mixtures, and they had lines marked out to measure the distance each rocket traveled. Then he upped the amounts, and the rockets could almost go halfway. Then McGee got the idea to add other chemicals, which worked quite grandly. They could almost get to the door with one, and their chart was filled with measurements; the equivalent of a candy store for scientists such as themselves. McGee was looking quite forward to showing Abby in the morning, providing she wasn't angry with them.

Then they added another ingredient. Neither predicted that the rocket would shoot off to the other end of the lab and embed itself snugly into the chair they had used to block the door.

"Whoa!" McGee was all a flutter with scientific glee. "That gets its own column in the chart!" He excitedly tapped away at the keyboard.

"Uh, Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not concerned that the canister is veritably buried in the chair?"

"Nah, we can fix it; Abby'll never know. All in the name of science, right?"

"Tim?"

"Yeah?

"I don't think we're gonna be around to fix it."

McGee finally noticed that his friend sounded well, terrified. He looked up to see Spencer gazing in horror at the door. He followed the line of sight to see the director of NCIS standing beyond the glass- the clear quality of which McGee was now truly appreciating- looking disapprovingly at the two of them and their materials strewn around their 'pad'.

They shared horrified looks. They were also not as terrified with the director catching them as they were with the idea of him telling their 'dads'. He forced open the door, and both fought the urge to edge back, trepidation helping to weight their legs.

"We'll clean this up Director Vance." Reid stammered.

"And we'll take whatever you want to put on our permanent records." McGee added, mentally dreading the black mark to his name. Reid shot him a brief glance, but silently agreed.

"Oh you'll clean this up." He assured them. "But I'm growing fond of Gibb's way of dealing with wayward; and rather childish behaviour." They both paled. "This won't go on your records; that reflects on the agency. I'll let your supervisors deal with you." He half turned. "I expect you both to be here when I return." And then he was gone.

The two of them stood in shell shocked silence for a moment.

"We should uh, get cleaning..." Reid began to pick up the canisters.

McGee frowned, saving his work and shutting down the laptop. He headed toward the chair, armed with a pair of pliers. He stopped midway to look back at his fellow grave bound buddy. "Hey, look on the bright side." Reid shot him an incredulous look, but figured that any bright spot in this would be helpful toward their survival. "When Gibbs and Hotch kill us," there went that idea, "and they write in the newspaper about how we embedded our rocket in a chair, at least the Mythbusters will test it." Reid managed a small laugh, but his flowering mirth was choked out by weeds of panic. He'd promised Hotch that he wouldn't get into trouble with these rockets again, after he'd been caught at work-twice! He could already see the disappointment and the failing trust there.

McGee continued on to the chair, grimly getting to work. The film canister was wedged firmly, and the chair had wheels which made his work more difficult, not to mention the fact that he was trying to make sure no irrevocable damage was done. His joke helped keep back the panic for a moment, but it soon rose again in his throat. He knew that Gibbs wouldn't care about his choice of activity to unwind with from a case; he would however, be acrimonious with the fact that they'd done it in Abby's lab, where the hundreds of things that could go wrong (despite their combined knowledge) would set off a major explosion. Upon reflection, doing it close to their source of materials for convenience now seemed like a fool hardy and indeed childish action. He sincerely doubted that he would win brownie points for figuring out what he did so wrong.

A small part of him welcomed their punishment, though his id was by far winning over his superego. It didn't surprise him, seeing as fearing pain was hardwired into most organisms genes.

He was still having no luck retrieving the canister, as the chair kept moving. His attempts to brace it failed, until an extra set of hands steadied it. The canister came out with ease that surprised him, and he staggered back slightly. He looked up to see Vance had returned, and he had brought reinforcement in the form of Hotch, Rossi, and Gibbs, the latter being the one who held the chair for him.

A quiet voice in his head wondered if getting the black object out of the chair would be worth anything when plea bargaining.

A much louder voice from his boss told him it wouldn't.

TBC


	3. Going Home

Word Count: 969

A/N: I am so sorry for not updating sooner guys. But as my hero Lilith Saintcrow always says, you are not at the mercy of your muse. The most important thing in writing is discipline, which means writing even when you aren't motivated. This means for me I will try to write everyday, so I will probably have more updates, just shorter.

A note on line breaks; mine seem to be failing in my stories, so instead of the line I wrote break. Hope this doesn't bother anyone unduly!

Chapter 3: Going Home

"Take a good look at that chair McGee. You're not gonna want to be sitting in one for a while." McGee could feel the colour leaving his face at this. Reid squeaked, resisting the urge to lock himself in Abby's office. As much as he didn't want to be punished, the last time the two of them (and a friend) tried to delay the inevitable; they not only got a spanking, but almost no privileges to speak of for a month.

Though they were rather extreme circumstances; one could hardly equate locking oneself in an office with glass walls, and running for hours through wilderness. He could almost remember the sting, which made him dread this more.

Remembering the incident, Reid began to wonder why Hotch was so angry. Yes, they had talked about it, but when it came down to it, he was a professional and on his own time. This was nothing compared to that time.

So while McGee was fighting tremors putting the chair back, Reid had finished cleaning and was standing resentfully at the other end of the lab, arms crossed and fighting not to look too defiant.

Hotch noticed the change in his demeanour, and how different it was then that of McGee's. _And I was hoping he would know how serious this is_, he thought sadly.

"Reid." He called. When he had eye contact, he raised a pointed brow and Reid got the hint, slowly making his way toward his leader. "Now, Reid." A quick flicker of anger crossed his face, but was swiftly stamped out. He walked a bit quicker, reaching Hotch only seconds then he would have before. He looked as though he was going faster (therefore obeying Hotch) but the lawyer wasn't fooled.

McGee was standing nervously by Gibbs. Once the marine ascertained that there was nothing more for him to do, he grabbed McGee's arm and said a brusque "G'night," before dragging him out.

Hotch motioned with his head and said "Let's go." Reid followed without hesitation, but he could still see the reluctance.

At the car, he ordered Reid in and shut the door. He turned to Rossi, who had followed the whole affair silently.

"I'll handle this." He told him. Hotch, Rossi and Morgan had worked out a deal when Rossi initiated this form of punishment. If one of them gave a direct order that was disobeyed, they would handle it. Otherwise, the first one to catch him doing something would handle it. In this case, it was obvious that since Hotch had talked to Reid on several occasions, this was his business.

"Of course." Rossi agreed, ever accepting. "I'll meet you at the hotel." They had also agreed that if something were to come up in 'town' (Washington) they would stay at a specific hotel rather then drive back to Quantico. It was simply safer for all involved.

Hotch nodded and watched Rossi head toward his own car. Sighing, he got into the car and started her up.

The drive back was uneventful. He would glance over occasionally to gauge Spencer's mood, but there was no interaction between them. The leader was busy planning a strategy. He could come out guns blazing, but that was more Gibbs' style. He would absolutely not back down from a confrontation if needed, but he preferred the hurt parent approach, which certainly would fit here. He'd told Reid not to do something, and he'd deliberately disobeyed him, endangering himself in the process. Yes, he was definitely going to have to have a discussion about trust with his youngest.

They arrived at the hotel, both showing signs of weariness. Ever responsible though, Hotch knew that this needed to be taken care of before anything else. So gathering his things, and his subordinate, he quickly walked inside, Reid sullenly plodding behind him.

-Break-

It was slightly awkward walking through doorways, but McGee didn't dare complain. He knew that he was in more then enough trouble already, and angry Gibbs had the worst of all his patented Gibbs looks. No, he quickly corrected himself; disappointed Gibbs was the worst. Both were simply unspeakable.

So he did the best he could to not be knocked into a wall, though Gibbs seemed to be helping. Despite his temper, he could still keep a lid on his emotions and maintain control. It was true what they said about Marines; once a Marine, always a Marine.

They made it to the car in record time, and Gibbs shoved Tim unceremoniously into the shotgun seat. He meekly did up the belt and shut the door, trying not to panic at the two actions that would slow his path if he tried to leave. He swept all thoughts of running from his mind and focused on whatever else he could thing of. The reality of what was to come kept pervading his thoughts, however. The fact that he could see Gibbs studiously ignoring him in his peripheral vision didn't help.

The car started, and so did the drive home. It was strange how Gibbs' house seemed more of a home sometimes than his apartment or even his parent's place. Tony often joked that Gibbs might was well give them their own space there, and Abby once responded with "Only you're over there enough to warrant it, Tony." The goofy grin slide to a mask of confusion, and he'd decided after a few moments "Good point, Abbs."

Thinking of Abby made McGee think of what seemed now very close. He was startled out of his thoughts by the fact that they were pulling onto Gibbs' street. He tried not to gulp.

A quick grab of his go bag from the back and he was ready (if you could define being ready to puke with nervousness as such) to go inside.

~TBC

A/N: Thanks for your patience and support everyone! I really appreciate it! I promise that I will try to have the next chapter up within a reasonable length of time.


	4. Punishment Accepted

Word Count: 1443

A/N: No excuses guys. If you're still following this story, thanks a bunch. And thanks to everyone for your interest and reviews in this story!

Chapter 4- Punishment

McGee veered off the second he was in the door, walking with shaky steps to the guest room. The blankets were perfectly neat on the bed, nary a speck of dust to be seen anywhere in the room. The walls were a sky blue (Tony's pick) and the items in the room were darker shades of blue to accent the walls (Tim's pick). Tony had questioned his sexuality when he explained the reasoning to him, but was put in his place when the girls congratulated Tim on his colour sense. Tim almost smiled at the memory of Tony's expression, before he remembered why he was here now and the smile ran away screaming.

He set his bag on the bed, valleys forming on the flat plain of fabric. Tim resisted the urge to bury his head in the pillows, know thing the scent would sooth him. He knew that he had to go back to Gibbs, accept the consequences of his actions like a man.

Tim eyed the closet, wondering if he could lock himself inside. _Man, yeah right. I'm still getting punished like a little kid for little kid stuff, like Tony does. I'm supposed to be the responsible one!_

"Tim!" the call came from what he guessed to be the living room. Where his boss was no doubt waiting on the couch to-

No. He wasn't going to make him come get him; he would go willingly. But to do that, he'd have to detach himself from the reality in front of him. He moved suddenly, silently cheering the motion of his feet forward, when his mind screamed to turn around and hide.

Gibbs was indeed sitting on the couch. He beckoned with one hand, holding it out. McGee reluctantly stepped forward and offered his wrist, which was grabbed and used as a lever to pull him over Gibbs' lap.

_Please let me keep my pants on..._ he silently begged as Gibbs held the arm firmly in place behind his back.

"I think you understand why we're here Tim, so we're gonna keep this short." Relieved, Tim reached for a pillow and did actually bury his face in it. Gibbs gently tugged it. "Keep your mouth free Tim; we're gonna have a talk." McGee almost whimpered, but nodded instead. If he turned his head, he could still take comfort in the homey smell of the fabric and speak.

Smack! As always, there was no pre-emptive speech, just a start into the festivities. In another situation, he might have laughed at the irony of his wording. They certainly had some 'festivities' back at the lab, though with rockets instead of fireworks. McGee kept from making any noise, not sure why he bothered. He'd be crying eventually anyway.

"Why are we here, Tim?" If he wasn't on his stomach having his butt whipped, McGee might have been interested in how his boss always used his first name when he spanked him. As it was, he was trying to focus on not showing any sign that it was affecting him.

He tried to talk without crying, the pain now searing into his skin. The words came out soundlessly.

"Answer me." The smacks got a little heavier.

"B-because we fired rockets in the lab." He managed, a sob escaping with several tears.

"_Abby's_ lab. You fired potentially dangerous rockets in the workplace, and a place that wasn't even yours! Not to mention what could have gone wrong. What if the rocket had gone off course and hit other chemicals, or the machines? How do you think Abby would have felt, coming in to find her lab destroyed, or worse, you two dead?!" though he'd understood that what they did was wrong, the severity hit Tim at that moment. Abby loved her lab, and it would kill her to not be able to work there whether because it was obliterated, or people she loved had died there.

"I'm sorry!" Tim now had to work to not squirm, the pain was so severe. He only bothered because he believed he deserved this. Gibbs was thorough and efficient, and none of his backside escaped the rain of smacks being dealt. "It was stupid!"

"Yes, it was. I don't even care that you did it Tim: I know you two are trained professionals. I know that you're a responsible adult and I DO trust you to handle those materials safely." Guilt twisted painfully in his gut, feeling ever more miserable that he'd betrayed his boss's trust. "But doing it in the lab was just stupid!"

"I know! I'm sorry!" he wasn't sure what he was apologizing for now; the harsh stinging was blurring his thoughts.

"And you'll never do it again in the lab?"

"Never!" he was truly crying now. "I'm so sorry boss!" he was hugging the pillow frantically when he realised that Gibbs had stopped, and he was now rubbing his back soothingly. McGee was grateful, as his effort to stay still made his back muscles incredibly tense.

They remained that way for several more minutes, until McGee relaxed. He hadn't even realised that so many of his muscles were taut until they weren't. It was then that Gibbs carefully flipped him over, minding the sore spot. He set Tim's head on his shoulder, whispering soothing things.

When he'd calmed down enough, he apologised again.

"I am really sorry boss. I don't know what we were thinking." Gibbs raised a semi-amused eyebrow.

"Really? I think I can guess."

"Well... yes, we thought it would be really cool to fly the rockets. I suggested Abby's lab because we would be close to our supplies..." he suddenly glanced at the phone. "Maybe I should tell Hotch that specific part was my idea?" as tired as he was, McGee couldn't stand to have his friend for something that was his fault.

"He agreed." Gibbs told him sternly. "He's as guilty as you." Tim still looked worried. "I'm sure Hotch will let him explain."

That immediately made Tim uneasy. "Boss?" Gibbs tilted his head. "Why didn't you ask me my side of the story?"

"I saw how guilty you were." Gibbs replied easily. "Figured we might as well get it over with; any explanation would've been superfluous."

McGee blinked. One thing that surprised him most with this form of punishment was that Gibbs actually talked at length during and after. But he continued to be surprised by his vocabulary as well. Then it occurred to him.

"You've been using that 'Word of the Day' calendar Tony and I got you, aren't you?" he asked, his salt coated face cracking into a smile.

Gibbs gave a grin. "Eh. Gives me something to impress Ducky with." McGee laughed. Though he hated getting spanked, and the pain that lasted for days after, he enjoyed getting to know his boss better. He was a little sad; uncovering the secrets of Leroy Jethro Gibbs was like learning how a magic trick is done. You're glad that the wondering doesn't bother you anymore, but the magic is gone.

Looking at Gibbs rare smile, he decided that there was more than one kind of magic. 'One door closes and another, much cooler one opens.' Laughter bubbled up; Tony was finally rubbing off on him.

His boss looked at his watch, and Tim noted the small transformation in facial expression that changed him from friendly parent to strict parent. "Bed."

Tim didn't have the energy to argue. He nodded, and Gibbs helped him to his feet. Tim made his way to his home away from home, resisting the urge to rub at his backside.

Five painful minutes later, he was clean and ready to sleep. He was lying on his stomach with his eyes closed, but he heard the door open. The blankets were tugged a little higher, a hand laid on his head with a quiet "Good night, Tim."

"Night, boss." He mumbled sleepily. He heard his surrogate father leaving. "Hey, boss?" the footsteps stopped.

"Yes?"

"You said '_in the lab_ again'. So we can still make rockets?"

Gibbs chuckled. "Yeah Tim. But let me know next time; I could give you some pointers." He heard his boss leave, the door snicking shut behind him.

He replayed their conversation over in his head. He did have his own father who was alive and well, but he still cherished the small moments that he shared with his other 'father'. He only wished that he didn't have to get in trouble to spend time like that with him.

He fell asleep eventually, a smile on his face, dreaming of rockets...

~TBC

Please don't hate me for leaving it here! Thanks for reading.


	5. Punishment Denied

Word Count: 1197

A/N: Hey everyone. I hope you all are having a non-stressful holiday season. I myself am not, so that makes me updating somewhat of a miracle. Anyways, thank you all again for your reviews; they are the fuel to the fire for my marsh mellows... or something.

Chapter 5: Punishment Denied

Hotch plopped the bags down on the bed closest to the door. There were two queen sized beds in this room. Once Rossi came in from 'circling the block' a few times, two of them could share a bed. Yes it was cheaper than separate rooms, but he only got one room because the closeness helped Reid calm down after a spanking.

Said agent didn't look like he needed to be calmed down at the moment. His arms were tightly crossed over his chest, a defiant look scrawled across his face. Hotch frowned, sitting on the other bed and motioning Reid over. Reid moved slowly, inching across stained carpet.

"You can stall all you like Spencer; but it's not going to do you any good." Hotch's commanding tone was enough to propel the young man forward, despite scepticism of his wrongdoing. "Sit." Hotch patted the spot on the bed next to him. Reid sat down further away then where his boss had directed him. It made the other man frown, but he let it slide.

"Tell me what happened." He was strict, but the seasoned agent always tried to get the other side of the story.

Before Reid could answer, Hotch's phone rang. He sighed, getting up to check it. In his job, a phone call could be significant.

When he saw the number, he turned and fixated Reid with one look. "I hope I can trust you to stay there." Spencer's jaw stiffened and he glared back fiercely, but he didn't move. Hotch stepped outside.

"What's up Gibbs?"

"Just thought you should know; it was McGee's idea to use Abby's lab. Whether that affects Reid's punishment; well, that's up to you."

"Thanks; I appreciate the heads up." They said their goodbyes and hung up. Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to hit the pressure point that would ease the oncoming headache; no such luck.

When he got back inside, Reid was in the same spot to his relief. He was sure what he would have to do if his youngest decided to pull a runner.

He sat back down. "I apologise for the interruption; so what happened?"

"We wanted to unwind after the case." Reid's voice showed his stress, vocal volume wobbling like a drunk. "I wanted to show McGee how to make rockets, so we decided to use Abby's lab because the materials were in close proximity to our launch site."

"Who decided to use Abby's lab?"

"It was a mutual decision." Even without his eyes skittering away, Hotch could tell from his voice that he was lying.

"You're sure about that?"

"Very." Reid didn't hesitate, but the deceit still showed.

"And it didn't occur to you that having chemicals and million dollar equipment next to exploding rockets would be irresponsible and dangerous?" Hotch said angrily.

"We actually trained professionals, and we were pretty sure that we could handle it." His voice became higher, snotty intellectual showing through. They did know what they were doing, why on earth were they being treated like little kids who needed mommy and daddy's permission to have some fun?

To his surprise, his boss didn't react. "And the fact that I've talked to you on numerous occasions about not doing this sort of thing at work didn't come up either?" This time, Spencer felt a twinge of guilt. A small part of him at the time had felt bad about going behind his boss's back and disobeying his orders. But a larger part felt that he was an adult, and could more than handle it.

"Well?" Hotch peered intently at him, face showing a miasma of emotion. Reid picked out anger, disappointment, and resignation.

"It did." Hotch raised an eyebrow for him to continue. "I just didn't care." Hotch's eyebrows shot way up.

"You didn't care?" he repeated in disbelief.

"You're always treating me like a little kid!" he burst out furiously. "We knew what we were doing!"

Suddenly he found himself over his boss's lap. He immediately began to struggle, and continued to even after the first smack. Hotch began to lecture him, knowing that between the constant smacks and hurt parent routine, Spencer would acquiesce.

"If you knew what you were doing, then why were you firing rockets in such an ill-conceived location? It was at work, in someone else's work space, where there were too many things that could have gone wrong! I can appreciate that you feel as if we treat you like a child; because we do! When you pull stunts like this, you do look like a child Spencer!" Spencer was still trying to get away, so he grabbed a hand and pinned it down on his back and smacked harder. He stopped squirming, but remained tense.

"Furthermore, if you'd done it elsewhere, I wouldn't have cared. In fact, I'm a big fan of rockets. If you'd just come and talked to me, I probably would have joined you." Hotch sounded so hurt that finally Reid broke down. Any resistance bleed away, and he melted into a sobbing heap on his surrogate father's lap. The realisation that he'd hurt his boss over a defiant attempt to prove a point made him miserable.

Hotch usually didn't keep spanking once his charge started crying. He ceased the assault and carefully let go of Spencer's wrist. He gently rubbed little circles with the lower half of his palm over Reid's back. Gradually, the crying eased and he could flip him over and draw him into a hug.

"Sorry." Reid mumbled, muffled by the shoulder he was pressing his face into.

"Me too." Hotch said softly. He waited several minutes until Reid had wiped his face dry before moving. "You should get ready for bed."

Reid stiffly got down, a shy smile twitching out before he grabbed his things and scurried off to the bathroom. He gave the shower one horrified glance and decided it could wait for tomorrow. He changed carefully, wincing when fabric scraped past sore flesh. He scrubbed his face clean of salt, teeth of plaque and deemed himself ready for bed.

When he came back out, Rossi had come back. He said a quiet hi before putting his things away and crawling gratefully under the covers of the bed nearest the window. Reid got comfy, settling down on his stomach.

He listened to the sounds of the other two men getting ready for bed. He waited until they had gotten into bed too before voicing his misery.

"Hotch?" his voice was timid and small. Hotch instantly came over and sat on the bed, looking at him in concern. "We can still fire rockets now, right?"

Hotch smiled in relief. "Of course Reid. But not-"

"-in Abby's lab." Reid finished quickly. "I know."

"I should hope so." Rossi chuckled quietly. Reid flushed red, glad that the light was dim.

"Good night." Hotch said, smoothing Spencer's hair back before returning to the other bed.

"'Night." Reid laid his head on the pillow, feeling better knowing that he hadn't permanently damaged his relationship with his boss. He was already imagining the fun they could have together.

With those happy thoughts, he drifted into sleep.

~TBC

A/N: Ugh. For some reason, I couldn't stop writing Hotch's thoughts too, so I hope the third person omniscient didn't screw with anyone.

The epilogue will be coming soon; stay tuned!


	6. Epilogue

Words:

A/N: Wow! I can't believe I'm actually finishing this story. I think this is the first time in my writing career that I've seen a multi-chapter story through. Thank you all so much for your reviews! I wouldn't have made it to the epilogue without you.

Epilogue

Coming back to work was a far from pleasant experience for McGee. It took all of his willpower to refrain from rubbing his still sore behind, or wincing every time he shifted in his chair. He didn't want anyone on the team to know what had transpired the night before.

Gibbs of course said nothing, didn't even acknowledge that it happened. He'd been punished, and therefore the subject never needed to be brought up again.

Sometime around noon he was about ready to get a bite to eat when Abby called him.

"Hey Tim!" she chirped, ever cheerful. "I need you to come down to the lab for a minute. It's important."

"Sure thing Abbs." He frowned, deciding that grabbing a Caf-Pow! on the way would be a good idea. A short span of time later, he was walking (somewhat painfully) into Abby's lab. _The scene of the crime... _he quickly squelched that thought.

"Hey; what's up?" he asked semi-casually as he handed her the caffeinated beverage. It was hard to keep his composure when he could see his laptop sitting on the table.

"McGee." She set the drink on the table behind her loudly, the sound echoing throughout the lab. Abby then whipped out a flashlight and shone it in his face. "Where were you between the hours of midnight and two pm last night?"

"Um... at home?" he tried. He really sucked at lying, but telling Abby what happened would be a nightmare.

"Wrong, McLiar." Despite the fact that he couldn't see, he knew Tony's obnoxious tone anywhere. "That computer-" Tony pulled out a laser pointer and a red dot circled the laptop, "-puts you here at around midnight. And the fact that Gibbs-" this time he pointed at the large portrait of their boss on the wall, "- drove you in this morning means that you stayed at his house last night; which means whatever you were doing-" he pointed it straight at McGee, "-you got caught!" he smiled smugly.

McGee sighed and rolled his eyes. "Okay yes, I was here; _brilliant _Sherlock. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back-"

"Ah ah ah!" Tony chastised while Abby wagged her finger. "We still haven't gotten to the part about what you were doing, McRocket Boy!"

"Well I-"

"Timmy!" Abby looked at him sadly. "How could you do such a thing?"

"Abby I'm sorry, we didn't-"

"Think that a girl could join your rocket _boys_?"

"Abby that not actually what-"

"Then what Tim? What?" She glared at him accusingly.

Backed into a corner, he began to babble. "Spencer was just showing me so we could blow off steam after the case. We were going to show you later after we'd perfected it," he pleaded "but then we were doing it here and Director Vance caught us and-" He looked like a lost puppy.

"Wait!" Abby threw up a hand, advancing on him. "You mean to tell me that you fired rockets in my _lab_!?"

"Y-yes?" McGee was slowly backing away.

"Whoa Probie. I didn't think you had the balls for that. What did Gibbs do?" Tony asked with a ridiculously large grin on his face.

"What do you think?" McGee looked mournfully at the chair, wincing when he saw the imprint of the canister.

"Ah." Tony clapped him sympathetically on the shoulder as he walked out. Abby seemed satisfied with that, and contentedly sipped her drink.

McGee pulled a face, but he was glad that he wasn't the only one who got this sort of reprimand. In an incredibly bizarre way, it sort of brought him and Tony together.

Strong emphasis on the sort of.

(Break)

Spencer shifted in his seat for the 13th time in the last half hour. His rear wasn't nearly as sore as it had been last night, but the car ride from Washington had still taken its toll. Despite the chair's padding, he simply couldn't gain relief from the burning, stinging pain.

He figured that he was being fairly inconspicuous. No one would think it strange if he casually got up and got some coffee.

He did so, hiding the wince that struggled to come free when he stood, walked, and only eased when he stood still at the counter. He poured himself a cup, allowing himself a wince when he leaned over to get the sugar, and then liberally poured it in.

"Hey." Reid jumped a mile when he heard Morgan behind him. "You're jumpy this morning." Morgan poured himself a cup. "And fidgety. Long night?"

"Uh, no. Just a nice, relaxing evening." He replied, carefully casual.

"Right." Morgan didn't buy it for a minute. "Come on kid, talk to me."

"Um..." Reid glanced around the coffee room surreptitiously before continuing. "I was sort of showing McGee last night how to make rockets to unwind from the case..."

"Okay." Morgan shrugged. "Two colleagues having some fun after a long case; nothing wrong with that."

"No; except we sort of set up the launch site in Abby's lab..."

Morgan's eyebrows would have shot up into his hair if he had any. "And did you 'sort of' get caught?"

"A little bit, yeah." Reid nodded guiltily, looking back again to the bullpen.

"Kid." Morgan sighed, and patted him on the shoulder as he walked back to his work.

_Sure, he gets to act all high and mighty, _Reid thought. But then he had to wonder; why didn't Morgan get the same treatment he did? Feeling rather put out, he walked back to the bullpen, already planning to find out.

~Fin.

A/N: And that's all folks! Thanks again for reading this all; I hoped you enjoyed it and I'll see you again next time!

~GTS


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